


dead friends and dark futures

by moriimae



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Death, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - In Hushed Whispers, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Minor Spoilers, Minor Violence, Pre-Relationship, but also not rlly - Freeform, how the FUCK does tagging work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 14:20:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriimae/pseuds/moriimae
Summary: The events at Redcliffe weighed heavily in your mind. Solas offers you comfort.“I can’t do this, Solas. I can’t, but I have to. I can’t fail—I saw what happens—I saw you die—I couldn’t—”Solas paused at the heartbreak in your voice. He knew Redcliffe was bad—he saw how much older you seemed when you reemerged from the time rift—but he didn’t realise how bad. You spoke again before he could respond.
Relationships: Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 2





	dead friends and dark futures

**Author's Note:**

> The pacing of this might be a little off since I’m just getting back into the swing of things, but I’m happy with the outcome.
> 
> Elvish to English translations can be found at the end.

Exhaustion weighed heavily upon your shoulders as you arrived at Haven. After handing your Hart’s reins to Master Dennet, you scrubbed at your eyes before entering the village.

Despite the weariness that had settled deep within your bones, you held your head high as you walked to the Chantry.

You gave a curt nod as you passed your companions that accompanied you to Redcliffe—Varric, Solas and Dorian. You couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on the formers’ faces, searching for the red lyrium corruption despite knowing it wouldn’t be there. Dorian offered a sympathetic smile as you entered the Chantry. Your advisors’ voices echoed throughout the hall, their displeasure palpable.

“It is not a matter for debate. There will be abominations among the mages, and we must be prepared!” Cullen’s tone was as sharp as his blade. You knew he’d be upset over allying with the mages, but—

“If we rescind the offer of an alliance, it makes the Inquisition appear incompetent at best, and tyrannical at worst.” Josephine’s voice wasn’t sharp like Cullen’s, but you could detect the frustration lining her words. 

Cullen’s gaze snapped to you as soon as you made your presence known. “What were you thinking, turning mages loose with no oversight? The veil is torn open!”

You just barely suppressed the instinct to recoil, to curl into yourself. Instead, you kept your gaze steady and spoke as calmly as you could,   
“They’re not monsters. They’re people, and they deserve the same respect as anyone else.”

Cullen’s lip curled in barely-disguised disgust. “This is not about  _respect!_ Even the strongest mages can be overcome by demons in conditions like these!”

“Your bias against mages clouds the truth.” The words were uttered quietly—Cullen looked like he’d been slapped in the face and began sputtering, at a loss for words.

Cassandra spoke up, her expression hardened as she stared Cullen down. “Enough arguing! None of us were there. We cannot afford to second-guess our people. The sole point of the Herald’s mission was to gain the mages’ aid, and that was accomplished.” Her eyes held a silent challenge, daring Cullen to argue. He did not.

“The voice of pragmatism speaks!” Dorian leaned up against one of the stone pillars, cocking a brow. “And here I was just starting to enjoy the circular arguments.” He glanced at you and his face softened. “Now that you lot have thoroughly exhausted our dear friend even more, let the poor thing rest. They went through something no one should." 

You gave the mage a tired, grateful smile. Then you turned back to your advisors.  
"I’m going back to my quarters. Just—let me be.  _Please._ " 

You caught a glimpse of Josephine’s pitying expression and Cullen’s guilty one as Cassandra began to chew him out while you left the Chantry. 

The villagers of Haven whispered amongst themselves as you retreated to your quarters. You didn’t bother to try to make out what they were saying—probably praying to their Maker, thanking Him or Andraste or _whoever_ for sending you.

 _If only they would realise that I literally fell into this mess_.  _Though, they would probably just turn around and go back to wanting to execute me. That would be less than ideal._

As soon as the door was shut and latched, you crumpled to the floor. Your chest heaved with silent sobs as you let your resolve shatter. The humming of the red lyrium still rang in your ears, shrill and sharp. The fractured voices of your companions—your friends—replayed in your mind over and over again, haunting, horrifying. 

You fell asleep where you lay in front of the door, succumbing to your exhaustion.

> _The red lyrium was overpowering._
> 
> _It sang in your ears, choked out your thoughts, constricted your heart. The stench of death hung thick in the air and clung to your skin._
> 
> _You were back in Redcliffe, in Alexius’s chamber._
> 
> _The demons flooded the room. You watched as Solas’s lifeless body was flung to the ground by a Terror._
> 
> _You screamed. Dorian was pulling you back through the time rift before you could run to the apostate’s side. You couldn’t save him. You let him die._
> 
> _You_ _**failed**._

“ _Lethallen._ ”

A firm shake and a slightly panicked shout woke you, a strangled sob ripping itself from your throat. Solas was crouched beside you, his face twisted with concern.

You scrambled back, apologies tumbling from your lips. The man tilted his head, lips quirking down into a frown.

“Why are you apologising?” His voice conveyed confusion. You refused to meet his eyes, afraid of what he might see.

_That you were weak— **pathetic**.  
How could **you** ever close the Breach?_

“ _Lethallen_ , please look at me.” Despite his quiet tone, you knew Solas wasn’t going to let you avoid his gaze. You reluctantly raised your head.

He looked so weary. Sorrow lined his features, with something underneath. Guilt?

“Redcliffe plagues you.”

“Yes,” your response was shaky, barely a breath, “it does.” A bitter smile graced your lips. “Is it that obvious?”

“It is not. I sensed your distress—your mark seems to react in tandem with your emotions.” Solas gave you a sympathetic smile. “You hide your turmoil well.”

“These people look at me for strength. To let them see me like this,” you laughed humourlessly, “is out of the question.” Tears threatened to fall. You blinked and turned your gaze away again.

Solas tilted his head. “You do not have to carry this burden alone. You know that, yes?” His tone was gentle, almost understanding. 

You finally crumbled.

“I can’t do this, Solas. I _can’t_ , but I have to. I can’t fail—I saw what happens—I saw you _die—_ I couldn’t—” 

Solas paused at the heartbreak in your voice. He knew Redcliffe was bad—he saw how much older you seemed when you reemerged from the time rift—but he didn’t realise  _how_ bad. You spoke again before he could respond.

“You, Varric and Leliana—you bought us time—so Dorian could get us out, but—  
“The demons broke through the door. A Terror—it threw you to the ground—you were—” You took in a shuddering breath.  
“I know it didn’t—it didn’t actually _happen—_ but it also _did—_ and I can’t—I can’t _forget! It won’t leave!”_

“ _Ir abelas, da’len._ I didn’t know…” Solas frowned. “You didn’t deserve to go through such an ordeal. No one does, but you’re—” He sighed, shaking his head. “You are too kind-hearted to have had to endure such a thing.”

Your laugh surprised him. “ _Da’len?_ I’m not _that_ young! However—”  
A mischievous smile proceeded to grace your lips. “ _Ma serannas, hahren.”_

Solas chuckled at that.   
_If only they knew._

“You should rest, _lethallen._ I will watch your dreams.”

“… _ma serannas,_ Solas.”

_“ De da’rahn.”_

You dreamt about vast fields of green and a black wolf with too many eyes protecting you.

**Author's Note:**

> Lethallen - a term used to address someone you're familiar with.
> 
> Ir abelas - I am sorry.
> 
> Da'len - "little child," or "little one." 
> 
> Ma serannas - Thank you.
> 
> Hahren - used to address elders.
> 
> De da'rahn - You're welcome.


End file.
